Scarlet Haunting
by Hawkelion
Summary: Witches can never truly die, especially when they're attached to this world by really strong emotions. Hatred, betrayal, love... revenge. T for safety, Fiyeraba, though it's not really important to the plot. Post Musical.
1. Prologue: A Life and Death

**Hello all, and welcome. Yes, this is my first venture into the writing of a fanfiction, and the plot line is actually coming pretty slowly to me. But I don't want you to be nice, I want you to be critical, so please refrain from sugarcoating if you decide to make a review. Thanks. Oh and I apologize if anything is spelled wrong, I do use spellcheck but even that fails me sometimes.**

Sadly, Wicked and all of it's wonderfulness is not mine. Locasta's name isn't even mine, it's L. F. Baum's. All I own is the plot, and the occasional OC, if there are any.

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Locasta had a good life. She hailed from a wealthy Gillikin family, grew up happily, went to a good school and received a good education in sorcery, as she had always dreamed. At the young age of 20, she had married the love of her life, and had, to the horror of her parents, decided to up and move into Quadling Country, as Quadling lifestyle had always fascinated her. She lived 2 happy years there with her husband, until one day a pair of all too familiar shoes arrived for her in an unmarked package. Believing that they must be from her parents, she opted to wear them whenever possible, even though they seemed far too ornate to be worn around in the marshes. It wasn't long after that Locasta became deathly ill. Her husband took her back to Gillikin, searching for more advanced treatment. But nothing could save her. Still, she died content, surrounded by family and friends who loved her. She was put to rest at the age of 23, in Quadling Country, as she had requested, with those shoes still on her feet. That was the end of that, as people had so thought. 5 years later her grave was dug up, to be widened so her husband, who had accidentally fallen into the path of an oncoming train just outside of Traum, could be buried with her. What everyone had expected to find was a slightly rotting corpse, intact in a coffin probably full of holes. What NOBODY had expected to find was a burnt and damaged coffin, with no contents whatsoever. "Quadlings", some people said, trying to push the blame on SOMEONE. "Animals", said still more. Whatever the cause of the corpse's disappearance, one thing was clear. Magic had been involved, and the body would never be found again.

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**This is, of course, just a small little prelude. Larger chapters to come, hopefully.**

**Review if you want, but please give an honest oppinion, I can take any hard critisism. Just no flaming, if your going to give ana opinion as to why it's bad, or good even, please back it up.**


	2. Chapter One: Desperation

**The moment of truth. Like I said, this is my first try at a fanfiction, so my characterization may be off. hopefully not, but if they seem OOC, please feel free to let me know.**

**Disclamer thingy: Yeah, still don't own Wicked, wish I did, but I don't.**

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She was dying, he could tell. Slowly wasting away at the lack of food, and small amounts of water she had to drink every day. But she refused to admit it. He wished she wasn't so STUBBORN all the time.

"Elphaba," he started, leaning forward so she could hear his voice over the whipping of the wind, "please, let's just go back. You can't survive like this for much longer, and the water is running low." He knew he had been the one to say we had to leave Oz in the first place, but he hadn't expected the desert to go on for this long. It seemed impossible that there could be so much of nothing for this many miles. He was certain they should have seen some other land by now, but as they hadn't, he knew they couldn't go on like this without Elphaba sacrificing herself. She looked back at him, tilting the broom so it came even closer to the ground. Her eyes were hard and determined, and he knew that if he wanted her to turn back, it was going to take more than a little pleading.

"Fiyero, you said it yourself, we CAN'T go back. Either way, I die. Besides, I'm sure I remember a spell that can conjure up water or something." she responded, waving off his concern as nothing as they touched down on one of the many large sand dunes. Night was approaching fast, and they weren't fans of flying at night, too much of a chance to run into something. Not that there was much to run into out here in the seemingly endless desert, but they Elphaba still had to be cautious. Fiyero might be nothing more than a cloth full of straw, and therefore pretty invulnerable to things like falling from miles and miles up, but she was still breakable, and dying like that after all she'd gone through to survive didn't sound like much fun. They both dismounted the odd, yet convenient, mode of transportation. Fiyero starred at her skeptically, wondering if she really meant that last comment, and seriously doubting it.

"If you knew such a spell, then why are you waiting till the water runs out to use it? If you can just conjure it up, then you wouldn't have to be so parched all the time." he said, his voice full of nothing but pure concern for her welfare. It was so hard for him to watch her get skinnier and skinnier, as he stayed perfectly fine, devoid of need of food or drink due to his condition. She really had saved him with this spell, in more ways than one. He just wished he had some way of saving HER.

"Because I hadn't thought of it until just now, honestly." she rasped through her dry lips and throat. She plopped down on the cooling sand, and opened one of the large canteens she'd strapped to her back, and began to chant a spell in words Fiyero could not even begin to understand or comprehend. At the end of the spell, she looked into the canteen expectantly, and immediately frowned.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Fiyero asked.

"Nothing happened…. That's odd, I'm sure I got it right too…." she almost whispered. She sloshed the contents of the canteen around once, and then chanted the spell again, and looked back into it. Again, a frown. A look of doubt, and maybe even horror flashed through her eyes. She put the lid to the canteen back on, and started a different chant this time, holding her hand out slightly. Nothing particularly remarkable happened, except a small green spark. This time there was definitely a look of sheer terror in her eyes, but she fought to keep herself composed. Fiyero caught it though; he could tell there was something very wrong.

"Fae? What is it, what's wrong? Do you know why the spell's not working?" he asked cautiously, kneeling down beside her. She looked at him briefly, and then looked down at her hand, muttering yet another spell. This time, nothing happened at all.

"The desert… it must… it must be draining my magic…. I can't cast any spells…." she muttered so quietly he had to strain to hear her. He looked at her, now absolutely terrified that she would die out here. But something didn't add up for him.

"If it drains magic then why does your broom still work?" he questioned.

"It must be because I already cast that spell. Fiyero…. this means no spells, I'm going to run out of water here…." she sounded truly frightened at the thought of wasting away.

"Then we have to go back, it's the only way. Don't you see? There's nothing but desert, we'll never find land before you run out of water. We have to go back NOW, or you're going to die here, and I'll be stuck out here by myself forever." he pleaded with her. She began to shake her head, when suddenly she got a glassy sort of faraway look. Fiyero had only seen that look once before, right before Nessarose had been squashed under a house. He waited quietly till her eyes refocused before he asked his question.

"It was a vision right? What did you see?" he inquired. She looked at him, a conflicted look on her face. She seemed somewhat torn about something.

"It wasn't really a vision, just… a feeling. It's Glinda; she's in danger of… of something. I don't know what it was, but there was red, and it seemed really familiar." she explained. Fiyero saw this as leverage, and immediately used it as such.

"There, more proof that we have to go back. I know you couldn't live with yourself if you just let something happen to her. We'll go back, and we'll help her. We can't continue on, so we HAVE to go back. I don't want you to die Fae…." he beseeched her. She stared at him for a long time, completely silent, and then looked down. She was clearly torn between keeping them safe, and helping her best friend. No, Glinda was more than that to her, she was like her sister. Finally, she sighed, defeated, and nodded.

They were going back. Oz hadn't seen the last of the supposed Wicked Witch of the West.

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**I realize the plot hasn't been established much yet, but I had to get some way of bringing Elphaba into the mix before the mix started. I couldn't just leave my favorite character out. Though, she probablly won't be showing up for several chapters after this.**

**Little bit of a challenege, see if you can guess the antagonist based on the information you've got so far. It's not really that hard but I want to see if you can get it before they're actually revealed.**

**Again, reviews are apreciated, though I'll write regardless if I get them or not.**


	3. Chapter Two: A Chance at Redemption

**Yay another update. :D I'm nervous about focusing on Glinda for most of this, because unlike Elphaba, I can barely relate to her at all, so it's harder for me to get her character right. Also, I realize 3 years for Elphaba and Fiyero to be gone is a long time, especially in the desert. So let's just go with, they weren't outside of Oz the whole time, it would have taken them awhile to prepare and such. So yeah. Also, my estimates place Glinda and Elphaba at age 22 when Elphaba "dies" so now they'd both be 25, and Fiyero 26 because he just seems like he should be older.**

**Disclaimer: Wicked isn't mine still, if it was I probably wouldn't be writing this story D:**

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3 years had passed since the Wizard had left Oz and Glinda the Good had taken power. The pain of losing both her best friend and the man she'd loved, or at least thought she had, had never really left, but it had at least dulled. Between integrating the Animals back into everyday society, and trying to keep the general public happy, the only other thing Glinda ever felt like doing was making good on Elphaba's last request to her. So she began translating the Grimmerie. The work was near impossible, as at first she had had no references since it was written in the lost language of spells and all. But eventually she found an ancient scroll hidden deep in the Royal Archives that had general translations of some of the key words. From there it became easier, but the work was still grueling and Glinda had never worked so hard for something in her life. But she wouldn't stop until she could read it effortlessly, as her parting gift to the friend she felt she had betrayed. On any days she had no particular work to do, no public speeches, petition signings, or law writings, she would stay in her room with the Grimmerie and the ancient scroll and write down translations, spell by spell. It was on one of these days that she came across a particularly interesting one. She had translated some interesting ones before, like the one that could turn air into water, or the one that could shape shift an object or person into something of roughly the same mass. But this one REALLY caught her interest.

"Spell for Resurrecting the Dead!" she exclaimed softly to herself after she had translated the title. Her heart lept at the thought that it might actually be possible to bring her dear friend and the man they both loved back. Maybe she could even resurrect Nessarose, to make amends for her death, which she still ultimately felt responsible for since it had been her suggestion in the first place. Just not quite so… gruesome. She began translating the conditions, as every spell had one or more.

"Will… only… work… if… cast… in… relative… area… of… actual… death…" she translated slowly, but surely. Her heart sank a little at this, as she wouldn't know where to begin to find Fiyero's exact place of death, since she had not been there when it happened and the corn fields in that area where just so vast. But this wouldn't present a problem for Elphaba or Nessarose, she had left Elphaba's hat right where she had found it, as a gravestone for the body that was never found, and the farm house that had crushed Nessa had never been cleaned up, it was sort of a monument now to the people of Munchkinland. Glinda had her mind made up, she would leave for Kiamo Ko immediately, duties be damned. She had to see Elphaba again. She didn't care the consequences, or how Oz would react to the "Wicked Witch of the West's" return. All she knew is that there was a chance that she could make up for all the mistakes she had made, and she was going to take the risk, no matter what the price this time. She had chickened out last time, and that had led to the deaths of three innocent people. So Glinda gathered up the Grimmerie and conjured up one of her giant bubbles, and immediately set out for Kiamo Ko.

"I'm coming Elphie, and this time, I'm not going to sit by and let Oz do what it did you the last time. This time you won't be alone."

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**The plot is still in hiding, this is just a "Let's distract Glinda so something important can happen elsewhere" chapter. Next one might be too. I wonder how I find time to update with work and college classes and crud. My mom apparently thinks a 16 year old shouldn't have any fun during the summer. Also, yeah the resurrection spell seems to convenient, and it is. There is of course, more conditions that she failed to pay attention to in her excitement, but it won't even matter, we'll never find out what they are anyways.**

**Reviews are appreciated, but I'll keep writing regardless if I get them or not.**


	4. Chapter Three: An Elaborate Deception

**Yeah, another chapter. I just want to keep this one coming fast, because I always lose enthusiasm and intrest if I start slowing down. Hope you enjoy this one. I was just kind of exploring the idea of how Glinda would feel if she figured it out for herself, instead of Elphaba revealing it to her like I've seen in a lot of other fanfictions. I'm not sure I got it quite right, but hey whatever, I tried. Anyways, more coming soon. Again, my characterization of Glinda may be completley off. If it is, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tell me. She's just so unlike me that it's really hard. D:**

**Disclaimer: Wicked... is still not mine D:**

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The tall, dark form on the horizon was unmistakably Kiamo Ko. She remembered it from the last time. As she drew nearer her heart started to throb with painful memories of that last visit. The last time she'd talked to Elphaba, and when she'd learned that Fiyero had died at the hands of the men he used to be captain of. But anytime these memories threatened to overtake her completely, she would simply look down at the Grimmerie and instantly remember she had a way to fix all of that. Things were going to be okay. Perfect, even. She was approaching the gloomy castle rapidly, caught on a western draft. As she got closer she began to take control of the actual flight pattern, and directed herself to the open window of the Southeast tower. As she landed in the room that held such horrible memories, the first thing that struck her was that the room was entirely empty. This upset her greatly.

"I _know_ I left her hat right here…." she said, walking over to a spot on the floor that was stained slightly green. The hat was missing from the spot she'd left it. The only thing she could think of was that Chistery or one of the other flying monkeys had taken it. But that wouldn't make sense; they knew why she had left it there.

"Maybe… someone came back, and took it?" she asked to herself, trying to understand why it was gone. She shook herself, slowly, and decided not to dwell on it. She had more important things to attend to. She quickly pulled out the Grimmerie and flipped to the page with the spell. She began to chant the required spell, repeatedly, starting slow and quiet and finally ending in a loud voice, just shy of shouting. She waited for the magic to take hold as it had with other, less powerful spells. But nothing happened. No "whoosh" of magic, no decrease or increase in room temperature, no flood of power. Nothing. Glinda frowned, looking over the spell again, and repeating it the way she had before, this time with hand placed lightly over the greenish stain on the floor, but still standing at full height. Again, nothing happened. Glinda dropped to her knees and cried. She had failed. Her one chance at fixing all her mistakes, and she couldn't pull off the spell. She might have known she didn't have that kind of power. She banged her fist angrily on the floor, letting out her frustration on the closest thing to her. Then she heard it. A hallow sound, as if there were nothing under that particular floorboard. She sniffed, and attempted to wipe away the rest of her stray tears, and tapped at the wood where the stain was again. Hollow. She looked closer at the wood there, and discovered something she'd never expected to find. A handle. Well, you really couldn't call it that. It was more of a small slot, cut from the wood so someone could pull a trap door open. Glinda's brain went into overdrive as she considered the possibilities, but she refused to get her hopes up just yet. Slowly, and cautiously, she reached for the handle. Her hands curved underneath the wood, and she quickly threw open the trapdoor, jumping to her feet in the process. She wasn't exactly sure what she'd been expecting to find, but what she did find was a small ladder, leading down into a small space that was just big enough for one, maybe two people to fit into. It was hardly the size of a small closet. But it was enough. Now, Glinda may have been somewhat of a ditz, but she wasn't dumb. Her brain quickly pieced everything together, and she realized Elphaba's brilliant plan from the beginning.

"She's… _alive_! Elphaba! She's alive! She never died, she just faked it…. Oh this is such a relief!" she exclaimed to the air. She slumped down on the ground, grinning madly and clutching the Grimmerie to her like a lifeline. Then the gravity of the situation dawned on her. Elphaba had never died. She'd faked everything, and for three whole years everyone in Oz had believed her dead and gone. Including Glinda. She fought to control it, but anger started creeping up inside her. She was alive, and she'd never even bothered to tell her best friend. One who had cried herself to sleep every night for 3 months afterwards. The one who'd stuck with her until the very end, and even kept that promise she'd made to her about not trying to clear her name, purely because she respected her last wishes. And here that friends finds that the green girl had been running around, heart beating and lungs working, for three years, and she'd never bothered to let he know.

Glinda was furious as she stormed out the window, quickly conjuring up a bubble so she wouldn't plummet to her death. A small part of her mind, the one part that was still thinking rationally, knew she was being unreasonable. Not only was it not true that she'd stuck with her through everything, but Elphaba knew what she was doing. That part told her that Elphaba knew that trying to tell Glinda that she was alive could have put them both in danger. But the rest of Glinda's mind was way too angry to listen. And there was nothing she could do about it. Elphaba was probably long gone from Oz by now, in some distant land beyond the desert. There was nothing she could do to show Elphaba how deeply she'd been hurt, how this had really cut her to the core. She'd just have to go back home, and mope around till some other distraction caught her attention enough to drag it away from this feeling of rage and betrayal. Little did she know, that distraction wasn't too far off.

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**Do I detect an important plot mover coming up? :D I think I do! It's about time to. Well, hope you liked it... I odlly have nothing much to say for once.**

**Reviews are nice, but don't fret that I'd ever stop writing if I don't get any. but seriouslly, reviewing would be good. *stares***


	5. Chapter Four: The Visitor

**Aha this didn't take very long xD I'm really on a role here, but I wanted to get this one last chapter out for the day. Goodness knows how I manage it... that wasn't meant to be a pun, my apologies. Anyways, there's some actual important stuff in this chapter for once, enjoy :D I feel entirely to predictable, you can all probably guess where this is going. If not, then I'm EXTREMELY proud of myself.**

**Disclaimer: I REALLY wish it weren't true, but truthfully Wicked does not belong to me D:**

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"Lady Glinda, you have a visitor" one of the less observant guards informed the enraged sorceress. All the others had noticed her foul mood, and opted to keep silent about the mysterious visitor. This particular one, though, had not been around long enough to know that Glinda the good was in an increasingly bad mood, and so he took the blunt of the death glare she opted to fix him with as she stormed quickly into the castle.

"Send them up to the meeting room, then. I'll be with them momentarily" she practically growled at the poor fellow. The guy would probably never speak openly in her presence again. Glinda stormed all the way up to her room, and as soon as she was inside, she quickly lost all the composure she had been keeping since leaving Kiamo Ko. She immediately threw herself on to her overlarge bed, and began to sob. Her tears were full of bitter anger, betrayal, but most of all, they were for her regrets. Everything she'd had the chance to do, the opportunities she'd had to do things that ultimately would have led to a completely different outcome. Maybe Fiyero and Nessarose wouldn't be dead, and Elphaba wouldn't have had to fake her own death. She realized she wasn't just angry at Elphaba, but herself as well. She knew Elphaba was not to blame for most of the things she had blamed her for, yet she'd never been willing to take the responsibility, so she'd pushed it on the only friend she'd really ever cared about. She was surprised Elphaba had been so willing to let all of the things she'd ever said or done to betray her go when they'd parted ways. If it had been Glinda in Elphaba's shoes, she knew she'd never be able to forgive herself.

Glinda continued sobbing like that for who knows how long, but eventually a cautious knock sounded from her door, and a voice came, probably one of the palace servants. She straightened herself up and wiped her tears away enough to tell the person to leave her be. Apparently this couldn't be done.

"But Lady Glinda, you were the one who told the soldiers to escort the visitor to the meeting room. She is there, and has been waiting for quite a long time. I do hope you don't intend to keep her waiting much longer" the servant's voice called, seeming almost to chastise her for her tardiness. Glinda sighed, silently cursing herself for letting this mysterious visitor in in the first place. She stood slowly and began to fix herself up.

"Tell her that I shall be with her momentarily" she called back to the servant, reapplying her smudged makeup and fixing her mussed up hair.

"As you wish, milady" the servant called, and soon their footsteps could be heard, leading them away from Glinda's room. Glinda was hardly in the mood to talk to some visitor she knew nothing of. Nobody had bothered to tell her who this person was, but then again she'd never really given them the chance to approach her with any information of that kind. But she conceded that if she had let this woman, whoever she may be, in to the palace under the understanding that she _would_ meet with her, she should at least hold up to it, even if she had done it without any rationality at the time she had made the decision. Soon, she was ready, and had put on her "everything is perfectly wonderful today" look that she usually used at public events and speeches. She needed to, as otherwise her face would be set in a deep scowl, or worse, a sorrowful grimace. She _did _want to seem welcoming, even if she didn't feel all that welcoming towards this stranger at the moment. She realized she was once again directing her animosity towards a blameless person, but she couldn't help it, she was just so _miserable._

As she approached the meeting room, she took a deep breath, preparing herself to get the visit over with and the visitor out as soon as possible, so she could spend some more time to herself. She entered the door, and was met by a woman, slightly younger looking then Glinda herself. She had bright blue eyes, which probably meant she was Gillikinese, and hair that couldn't seem to decide whether it wanted to be blonde or brunette. She was taller than Glinda, but not quite so tall that she made Glinda look like a dwarf. She smiled upon seeing Glinda enter, and gave a small bow.

"Lady Glinda, I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Locasta, I hail from Quadling Country, although, my blood says I'm Gillikinese. I came with a request to make of you, but I feel as if I'd be imposing on you." the woman said, in all politeness. Glinda immediately took a liking to her. But there was something sort of familiar about her, which she couldn't quite put her finger on. She smiled back at Locasta.

"Please, just Glinda. And I'll do anything I can to help you in your request Locasta." she said, her feelings of hostility suddenly slipping away as if they'd never been there. Instead Glinda was filled with joy, and a need to help this lady, however much of a stranger she might be. Locasta brightened at Glinda's words, if that were even remotely possible as she was already smiling so brilliantly.

"Thank you so much for your kindness, Glinda. You see, recently I fell into a bit of debt, and found myself with neither house nor home. Now, I've been studying as a sorceress for years now, but have never quite gotten the knack for it. I thought, having heard of your magical prowess, that if I appealed to you, you might allow me to stay here as your apprentice or something of that sort. I realize it's really more of a fantasy then a request, but I have heard how very kind you are as the ruler of Oz, so I thought I might have a better chance that way. so here I am, practically begging for a place to stay." the girl explained, her face going from smiling brightly, to slightly somber and downtrodden, back to the brilliant smile, and then into a more pleading puppy dog eye look. Glinda, who was naturally kind-hearted, felt for the poor girl. She wanted to make her happy, by whatever means necessary. She'd already made up her mind before the girls story was even finished.

"Of course I'll take you in Locasta. I can't just leave you out on the streets, now can I? And I'd be glad to teach you what little I know of magic." the young woman said cheerfully, smiling warmly at her new-found apprentice. A cloud drifted past just outside the window, and the angle of sunlight changed for the briefest second. But it took just that second for Glinda to notice the red glint that flashed across the room. Glinda looked down, at Locasta's feet, and was stunned at what she saw on the girl's dainty feet. The flash of the rubies made them unmistakable, and oh so familiar. Glinda let out a slight gasp, and looked straight back at Locasta, staring deep into her eyes before asking the question that had popped into her head at the sight of those bewitched slippers.

"_Where in the world did you get those?"_

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**I smell plot development maybe! *sings happily* We might finally be getting somewhere, who'da thought it? Anyways, expect more tomorrow, I'll try for another 3- 4 chapters, we shall see.**

**Reviews! Are nice. But I don't expect them because I realize my writing truthfully isn't the best ^_^**


	6. Chapter Five: New Friend, Old Enemy

**Kind of dissapointed in this chapter. It seemed like it dragged on to long. Well, whatever hope you all like it anyways.**

**Disclaimer: As much as I cry and scream, Wicked will not be mine.**

"_Where in the world did you get those?"_

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The question hung in the air for a few tense moments. But just as soon as the tension came, Locasta shrugged it off.

"Well, I got them in a package that I thought was from my parents years ago. But the package _was _unmarked, so really it could have been from anywhere." she responded, seeming almost bored with the question. Glinda was perplexed.

"But those shoes should be in… that place that Dorothy and the Wizard came from! Dorothy Gale used them to get back home; I was the one who told her how to in the first place!" Glinda mused, pretty much to herself, trying to figure out how those shoes had gotten back to Oz when they were supposed to be in that other place, which the name of she couldn't remember for the life of her. It started with a C or something. Cowsauce? Careless? Well whatever it was, those shoes should have been there, in Dorothy's possession, not on the feet of some stranger back here in Oz. She just couldn't fathom it.

"Well I don't know anything about Dorothy; I was in the Quads when all of that was going on. I only heard that she'd vanquished the Wicked Witch of the West, and her sister. If these shoes are Dorothy's, then I have no idea how they got to me. But they are magical after all, aren't they?" Locasta reasoned. Glinda realized this much was true; they were magical, enchanted by Elphaba herself, and by Glinda later to get Dorothy back home. And Elphaba's magic did have a way of being unpredictable, plus mixed with Glinda's, even if it held no comparison to the power of Elphaba's, who knew what could happen. Even if these shoes were intentionally meant just to help Nessarose walk, by now they could have a will of their own. Who was to say? Glinda nodded her head slowly, wanting to let it go. And plus, Locasta just didn't seem the kind of person who would track someone to Cannedgas and steal a pair of shoes. Honestly, anyone doing that sounded completely ridiculous, even Elphaba, who had been so obsessed with getting her hands on them. So why would someone who hadn't even known anything about the shoes attempt it? Finally clearing her mind of any doubt, Glinda smiled brightly once again.

"Your right, it's probably just a coincidence they ended up with you. I probably should ask for them though, since they did belong to the Wicked Witch of the East and all, and could be dangerous." Glinda said, subtly adding a bit of a command in with the suggestion. Here Locasta frowned.

"I'm afraid I'll have to keep them, as they're the last thing I have to remember my parents by, even if they might not have been from them. They died a few years back, and as I said I don't have many possessions anymore." Locasta fired back at Glinda, her voice mixed with sorrow, possessiveness, and maybe there was a hint of bitterness there? Glinda flinched away from the small stab at her authority. She wanted Locasta to feel welcome, so she just nodded her understanding, not really knowing what to say to that.

After a while, the two young women fell into a more comfortable conversation about trifling things with no real depth. Glinda felt the more time she spent with Locasta, the more she came to like her, and when finally it was time it to call the servants to prepare a room for Locasta, she considered the younger woman a friend. She was almost sad to see her leave the meeting room to go to her own room, and made a decision to spend more time with her. But as soon as Locasta had left the room, the air of contentment and cheerfulness seemed to leave with her, and Glinda remembered that she was decidedly, still in a horrible mood. She got up from the comfy green chair she had been lounging in, and began the longish walk to her room. As she was turning a corner, she bumped into someone, who immediately toppled over.

"Oh I am so very sorry, I didn't mean to-," Glinda stopped mid-sentence as she realized who it was she was apologizing to. The Scarecrow, the one who had been involved in the Witch Hunting party that had accompanied Dorothy to Kiamo Ko to kill Elphaba. Glinda had never liked any of the Witch Hunters, for the obvious reasons, especially the Tin Man, after she had learned of his true identity. Well, she hadn't really learned it as he had announced it to her some time after Elphaba's supposed death, the moment he had been able to get an audience with her. Regardless, she saw through Boq's nonexistent hart, to the obsession he'd deluded himself into thinking was love, and knew immediately that _he _was the one to blame for everything that had happened to him. There might have been some fault of hers, or Nessarose's, but ultimately it was him. And the Lion, who had convinced himself that Elphaba had stolen his chance at courage by freeing him from a cage when he was young. Glinda knew that if Elphaba hadn't done so, the Lion would probably be either dead, or completely incapable of talking, and thus giving his opinion on that matter. The Scarecrow though, she knew nothing about. He claimed to not remember much about anything, having no brain and all. So that's why his choice to join Dorothy in hunting down a so called "witch" he knew nothing about, had probably infuriated Glinda the most. She was extremely happy when they all pretty much vanished into society, Boq a little less willing than the other two. And now here was the Scarecrow, waltzing around in _her_ palace of all places.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she questioned him coldly, retracting the hand she had begun to offer him to help the fellow up from his position on the floor.

"Well I thought it would be nice to drop in for a visit… or something. I am a hero of Oz, after all, so the guards kind of just let me in" the Scarecrow responded, getting up and dusting himself off without her help. He seemed to have missed her icy tone. Glinda's lips pereced and she gave him a long, hard glare, to which he just looked back at her, his button eyes obviously having no way off any kind of emotion. Eventually, his stitched mouth spread into a wide grin, and he stuck out his hand, probably expecting her to shake it.

"It's good to see you again Miss Glinda." he said, completely unaware of her obvious hostility towards him. She stared blankly at his hand, then scowled and turned, marching off in the opposite direction of which he had been coming. The rustle of the straw inside him made her aware that he was following her.

"That's Lady Glinda to you. And I don't know what gave you the idea I'd be interested with a visit from you, but you were wrong. You can stay as long as you like, but please refrain from getting in my way, or even making your presence known anywhere near me. Is that understood?" she told him angrily and swiftly, not even pausing to breath till she was done. The Scarecrow shrugged behind her.

"Sure, I suppose that'd be alright. I don't see why we can't talk or anything, but if that's what you want. Just looking for a place to stay for awhile I guess, seeing as a 'visit' is not something you want." the Scarecrow responded, his voice still strangely happy. He stopped suddenly in the hallway, and turned to search for a servant to show him to a room. Glinda didn't even pause to notice he was gone.

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**If it seems that Glinda lets Locasta off far to easily, your probablly right. I still utterly obvious in my intentions for this plot, but whatever. Yay Fiyero's here :D Btw, if your expecting me to write in Boq, it's most likely not going to happen, as I am deffinatley NOt a fan of his character, and I'd fail at writing him anyways. But what i say and what I ened up writing can vary alot, my mind controls me, I do not in any way control my mind. Anyways, more to come, probablly today, but we'll see I'm not sure yet.**


	7. Chapter Six: Mirror, Mirror

**So here's another update, hurrah! I revised this chapter a lot, and I kind of sorta like the result, ish. But not entirely. Been working on more dialogue and less needless insight, so hopefully I did better. Probably not on the first half of the chapter but what can you do? Enjoy ^_^**

**Disclaimer: Oh how I wish! But Wicked still doesn't belong to me D:**

"She really hates your guts, huh?" Elphaba's image asked, almost mockingly. The Scarecrow, or Fiyero, was sitting in the room the servants had led him to, talking to the mirror. It sounded strange, yes, but at present Elphaba refused to go anywhere near Emerald City, so she opted to talk to him by other means. The magical kind. It was a simple spell, one she'd memorized from the Grimmerie. The Scarecrow raised his fabric eyebrows at her, smirking.

"Well you'd hate me too if you thought I was one of the people responsible for _her_death, so it doesn't really come as a surprise to me." he responded. Elphaba frowned slightly at this. She still felt terrible for not having told Glinda in some way, but she hadn't had a choice. It wasn't just about keeping herself and Fiyero alive; it was to protect Glinda too. Still, this didn't get rid of the sinking feeling that came with knowing she was probably causing her best friend a lot of grief and pain with her supposed death. Not to mention she thought Fiyero was dead too, and blamed herself for Nessarose's death as well probably.

"That's touching and all, but I really wish she'd forget about me, it would be so much easier that way." she muttered, almost to herself. But Fiyero still heard.

"You know you don't really want that Fae." he told her comfortingly. She smiled slightly, and then slipped back into her stoic stance, all business now.

"Remember why you're there Fiyero, to keep an eye on her. At the first sign of trouble, you call for me. I'm still not sure what it is that's giving me this feeling, but I know two things for sure." she said, but didn't elaborate. Fiyero blinked, looking at her expectantly.

"Are you going to just stand there and expect me to read your mind or are you going to tell me what those two things are?" he finally asked. She blinked, and then blushed slightly.

"Right, sorry. I thought I told you earlier, guess not. Anyways, one is that it's got a pretty powerful magical aura. And the aura is extremely familiar, but I can't place it. The other thing is, whatever it is, its sole purpose is to exact revenge, in whatever way, on Glinda. I can't tell if it intends the revenge to be violent or what, but I just want you to make absolute sure that she's perfectly safe. I couldn't stand knowing she'd died." she informed him. Fiyero nodded, straw rustling with every little movement of his neck.

"I'll make sure she's safe Elphaba, I'd stake my life on that promise." he promised. She frowned slightly, but then realized he was joking, as the only thing that could possibly kill him now was fire, and there wasn't much of that around the Emerald Palace, especially since it was the middle of summer.

"Right, well-," she began, but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Fiyero whirled around to face the door, slightly panicked.

"Who is it?" he called, his voice raised an octave or so by his nervousness.

"Sir Scarecrow? My name is Locasta, I'm Lady Glinda's knew apprentice and ward I suppose you could say. I was wishing to talk to you, I heard you were here and hoped wished to meet with one of the heroes of Oz." a sickeningly sweet voice responded. Fiyero spun back to the mirror, only to find it empty. He sighed in relief.

"Come on in, then." he replied, his voice now back to normal. He turned back towards the door as it opened, and straight away noticed she was wearing Nessarose's shoes. He didn't want to dwell on that though, because he knew Elphaba was undoubtedly still listening, and if he mentioned them, who knew what she'd do. So instead he focused on the young lady now standing in his doorway. Her smile was sweet, so much so that he couldn't help but feel the urge to make this girl feel welcome. An air of friendliness and calm seemed to follow her into the room, and he smiled brightly at her with his stitched lips.

"Well don't just stand there, Miss Locasta, was it? Come on in, I don't bite. I doubt I could if I wanted to." he joked with her, and she gave a small giggle as she entered and sat on one of the comfy chairs in the sitting area of the room. He joined her presently, sitting directly across from her.

"What can I do for you miss?" he inquired. She smiled brightly at his friendliness, and he vaguely wondered in the back of his mind if she was capable of putting on any other kind of expression besides happy and happier.

"Please, just Locasta. I didn't really want anything per say, I just got so excited when I learned you were staying here. I mean, who wouldn't want to meet one of the famous Hero's of Oz. I was in Quadling Country at the time that whole episode happened with the Wicked witches and Dorothy gale, but I still know how to be excited of celebrities." she explained. Fiyero laughed, somewhat nervously.

"Well, I can't really say I had much to do with it, I just happened to be in the right company I suppose." he replied, feigning modesty. Locasta gave another small laugh, like the tinkling of a bell, but nodded knowingly.

"Well, I also came to ask something. I was wondering are you well acquainted with Lady Glinda?" she asked, her tone almost prying. Fiyero was somewhat puzzled in the sudden turn in conversation, but was so charmed by the girl he replied anyways.

"I'm afraid not. She seems somewhat distant from most people these days, especially us heroes and such." he responded wistfully, not exactly proud of his social status with the current ruler of Oz. Locasta smiled thinly, but he could tell she'd hoped for another answer. A feeble alarm went off in his head, but he shrugged it off.

"Oh, well that's okay then. I was just wondering. Anyways, I best get going, it's approaching dinner time, or so I've heard from the servants. I should probably go get ready." Locasta replied, and hurriedly stood and left, not waiting for Fiyero to give his goodbye, and closed the door on her way out. The pleasant feeling in the air left with her, and Fiyero frowned while looking back at the mirror. He was startled to find Elphaba glaring at him from its mounted frame.

"What, why are you looking at me like that?" he asked defensively. She crossed her arms over her chest in what looked like an "I'm going to lecture you now" pose. He readied himself.

"What in the world are you doing? Are you deaf or have you just lost all reason?" she questioned him. Sure enough.

"What's that supposed to mean? I talk to another woman and suddenly you jealous?" he shot back at her. She laughed, a slight cackle, not loud enough to be heard thankfully.

"You think this is because I'm jealous? No! It's because she was asking suspicious questions, and you answered them as if they were the most normal thing in the world!" she shout-whispered at him. Fiyero shrugged.

"She seemed perfectly friendly to me, and yeah some of her questions were odd and all, but seriously Fae, you talk like she's some evil being just ready to eat us all when we go to sleep at night or something." he retaliated, defending this girl he hardly knew. Elphaba was perplexed at his carefree behavior, even Fiyero wasn't this oblivious.

"I don't trust her." she replied curtly.

"You don't even _know_ her!" he defended right back.

"Well neither do _you_!" she almost yelled. A deadly silence hung in the air. She was right, and he knew it. He was defending someone he hardly met against a girl he'd been in love with for about six years or so. He frowned, pondering at his intentions.

"Fae, I'm sorry, she just doesn't seem like she'd be dangerous." He said, trying to reason with her. She glowered back, not happy in the least.

"Believe what you want. But I'm going to do some snooping in the Quads while you keep an eye on Glinda there. You will keep an eye, right?" she pried.

"Fae, some girl I just met isn't going to distract me from watching out for Glinda. She's my friend to, you know." he informed her. She nodded stiffly back at him, and her image faded from existence. Fiyero was left gazing sadly at a now empty mirror.

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**It may still seem sorta slow here, but hopefully things will start to pick up in the next chapter or so. Also, look forward to some Elphaba centered chapters, because her snooping on Locasta will probably be really important (well, not probably, more like definitely.) So yeah, be prepared for those ^_^**

**Review please, I need critical analysis badly.**


	8. Chapter Seven: Assassination

**So basically this chapter will come off as really boring, or really rushed. Sorry about that :/ Anyways, enjoy it. **

**Disclaimer: It's not going to be mine no matter how many times I have to clarify it.**

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Glinda was almost joyous that the Scarecrow didn't require food or drink to survive. Dinner would have been undeniably awkward with him there. This left her, and Locasta, to dine in her smaller, more private dining room, as opposed to the considerably larger one she used when there were a lot of guests, or a party. It was summer, but things had been slow lately, and she really had no other visitors. The usual are of sweetness followed Locasta into the room, as well as that seemingly permanent smile.

"Good afternoon, Glinda. It's so kind of you to invite me to dine with you." Locasta said as she sat at the table. Glinda smiled back at her.

"Oh, don't mention it. It may be customary, but I actually do enjoy your company. And I suppose we will be doing this often, as you're my new… apprentice or whatever you want to call it." Glinda stated kindly. The first course was served, and despite claiming her growing up in Quadling Country, Locasta seemed to know all the manners expected at formal dining. Glinda was a bit surprised, but opted to think nothing of it.

"So, Locasta, I was wondering if you could tell me a bit of your background." Glinda said, in between the second course and dessert. The dialogue up till now during the meal had been light, and nothing more than small talk. Locasta frowned slightly, as if remembering something unpleasant. Glinda immediately regretted saying anything.

"That is, if your comfortable talking of your past, of course. I was merely curious." she amended, giving Locasta room to end the topic then and there.

"No, it's fine. Really all I can say is I was born, raised, and lived in the Quads my entire life. My mother died of an unexpected illness when I was about 8, and my mother died two years later from… well he killed himself in desperation to join my mother I suppose. Or that's what I was told. A kindly Quadling lady brought me up after that for years, until I left about a year ago to travel here. There's not much more to say then that. I apologize for the vagueness, but my life has been terribly boring up till this point." Locasta recounted. Glinda frowned at the obvious discomfort Locasta was having at retelling her parents' tragic deaths.

"I'm terribly sorry for your losses. I wouldn't have asked if I knew. Oh, I have an idea, what say we start on those magic lessons?" Glinda suggested, hoping this would cheer Locasta up. It seemed to do the trick, as she was smiling once again. They agreed to meet in 10 minutes time, In Glinda's study. Glinda headed there straightaway, preparing it, and hiding away the Grimmerie. As much as she liked Locasta, it didn't mean she would trust her with that. There was only one person she would ever let touch the Grimmerie other then herself, and that was the person that gave it to her. Locasta showed up directly on time, and magic lessons went by quickly. Soon, it was late and time for both to retire.

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A shadowy figure crept through the dungeons of the Emerald Palace, carefully blending in with the shadows and pausing whenever a guard passed to be sure the chameleon spell they had cast upon themselves would not waver and they would not be caught. There came a particularly tense moment for the figure, when a parade of about fifteen soldiers passed, and the near invisible figure was sure they would be knocked down and discovered. But it did not happen, they passed by, miraculously avoiding the stretch of wall the figure had plastered themselves against, and the invisible person let out a small sigh once they were sure they were gone. As the shadow got deeper into the dungeons, the guards grew fewer, till at last she was at her destination, where not a guard could be found, on orders from the acting head of Oz. The figure dropped their deceiving spell, revealing themselves to be a tall, slender woman with jet black hair cut to just below her shoulders and eyes like the color of stone. She was dressed completely in black, and resembled a shadow itself as she stalked to the furthest cell in the hall she had come to. There she found her target, unconscious and snoring lightly. The person in the cell looked a rotting corpse of their original self, and the shadow knew that the elderly woman's time was drawing near. That was of course, why she had snuck into the dungeons in the first place. She slipped out the note she had probably received about three years ago, but had not discovered till just recently, rereading the request.

_I write this in desperation._

_It has come to my attention, that I, in my obsession with power, have accused my own daughter's death. Given, I probably would not have ordered her to be killed if I had known, however I am still mainly to blame. Therefore, as my one last request before I leave Oz, I write to you. I've heard of your reputation, and ask for your particular expertise. In her lifetime, my daughter was greatly deceived by two people. One of these people, I am sorry to say, was me. The other, was Madame Morrible, headmistress of Shiz University. I find myself a deplorable person, and this is probably why I have no regrets in asking for the deed to be done. In my last testament to the daughter I never knew I had, I wish you to kill this woman, Madame Morrible. You will find her in the dungeons of the Emerald Palace. You will find ample amounts of Ozian money enclosed with this letter. I trust you will get the job done._

_Former Wizard of Oz,_

_Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs_

The letter had indeed contained a large amount of money, and the woman had never turned down a job offer before. Really, she wasn't able to. So here she was, ready to finish the former Headmistress of Shiz off. It was hardly much of a challenge. With a flick of the woman's wrist, a large lightning bolt appeared from thin air and struck Morrible, dead in the chest. The woman turned, not doubting the old woman was dead. She quickly put her cloaking spell back up and began her long ascent into sunlight, being more cautious as before, as the loud sound of the lightning had been meant to set off the guards.

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**Okay so that last half probably seemed really random, but there is a point. I mean apoint besides the fact that I wanted Madame Morrible dead D: And yeah the note from the Wizard is probably way out of character there, but I rather enjoy it. Anyways, if no more chapters today then expect a lot tomorrow, since I don't have to work Monday and will most likely be up all night writing ^_^ And yes, I just HAD to throw in the Wizard's full name for kicks xD**

**Critical anlyisis is MUCH appreciated.**


	9. Chapter Eight: Fears

**This chapter seems more like a filler to me then anything D: Ugh, well enjoy anyways.**

**Disclaimer: I want to, but I have no way of ever owning Wicked, so it obviously does not belong to me.**

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The palace was in an uproar. Servants and guards where rushing about in a panic. And the Scarecrow was clueless as to what had happened to cause it. He wandered out of his room in the morning, as per usual. He hadn't slept a wink all night, but he was a scarecrow after all. The moment he stepped out of the safety of his room, he knew something was up. But no one was paying enough attention to him to tell him what it was. Finally, he managed to get someones attention the way he had the last time. By getting trampled.

"Oh, I'm so terribly sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going Sir Scarecrow!" Locasta's unmistakable voice apologized. Sure enough, as he propped himself up he found her leaning down, hand outstretched in an attempt to help him up. He smiled brightly in response, accepting the hand.

"It's not a problem, Miss Locasta. But I really would like to know, what in Oz is going on here?" he inquired politely. She shook her head.

"I'm afraid I don't know much. All I've heard is there's been some sort of assassination in the dungeons, but they wouldn't say who, and they wouldn't say how either. I'm frightfully worried for Lady Glinda." Locasta said, looking almost beside herself with worry. Fiyero didn't like that look, he much preferred her smiling. Then the gravity of what she'd just said finally hit him. He turned, and sprinted off towards where he knew Glinda's room to be, yelling an apology to Locasta over his shoulder. He sprinted down several hallways and up several stairs, loosing small amounts of straw on the way. Before he even reached her room, he skidded to a halt in front of her stalking down one of the hallways, looking very upset and surrounded on all sides by at least six guards. Fiyero sighed in relief, he didn't know what he would have done if she'd been assassinated right under his nose.

"Oh Lady Glinda, I'm relieved to see you're still well!" he exclaimed, not panting for breath at all, as he lacked the necessary lungs to overexert. Two of the soldiers in front of her stepped aside wearily, eyeing the Scarecrow with suspicious eyes, but allowing him to face her directly. She scowled, unmoved by his obvious worry for her welfare.

"As _touching_ as your concerns for me are Sir Scarecrow-," she spat this part, obviously feeling the courtesy to treat him as an honored guest was revolting, "I haven't the slightest idea why you should be concerned. After all, the murder was nowhere near me, it took place in the furthest reaches of the dungeon." she explained, her patience for the straw man thin as it was, and growing thinner by the second. She made to move forward and around him, but the two soldiers on either side of her allowed her little to no maneuvering room to get around, so she was stuck where she was unless she was willing to run the man over. Which, as much as she couldn't stand him, and was tempted to do so, she would not do, if only to uphold her image in front of her guards.

"Well you can't help me for worrying. You are the figurehead of Oz, after all, and a prime target for assassination, just by status alone. I truly don't want anything happening to you." he shot back, defending himself from her obvious hostility towards him that he felt he truly didn't deserve. If she was going to be mad at anyone, she should be mad at Dorothy, or the Wizard, or Madame Morrible. But not him. Glinda stepped towards him, threateningly almost, and despite the obvious height difference, she did manage to come off as extremely menacing.

"I don't know what makes you think you even have the _right _to care about my welfare, but you'd better get that notion out of your head. Now if you'll excuse me, I should be going. Much to attend to and all that." She said, trying to slip past him, to no avail, he merely stepped in front of her again, and she ran into one of her guards.

"Not quite, if you please Lady Glinda. There's still the matter of who was killed. If you'd be so kind as to elaborate." he said, almost smugly. He seemed to be enjoying the fact that she had nowhere to go and he was the deciding factor as to her getting anywhere. She glowered at him, but huffed, seeming to accept she'd have to answer his questions if she wanted to get away from his rotten company.

"If you absolutely must know, it was Madame Morrible, former Headmistress of Shiz University, former Press Secretary to the Wizard of Oz, and former mentor of Miss Elphaba Thropp and myself in the forms of sorcery. I had her locked away three years ago on counts of high treason, but apparently to someone, that punishment just wasn't good enough, so they hired an assassin to deliver the ultimate punishment. I can't really say I'm sorry to hear she's gone; I never did like the woman." she explained to him. The Scarecrow was stunned into silence for some time, but still refused to budge from Glinda's path. Finally, he spoke.

"Do you by any chance, know who it was that ordered the assassination?" he asked, voice not much more than a whisper, which Glinda had to strain to hear.

"As a matter of fact, we do. The assassin seemed to want the death to be known as soon as possible, so they made it noisy, and left behind the original note written by the employer. It would seem like it was written by none other than Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkel Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs." she spat, uttering the name as if it were the devils. Noticing the Scarecrow's look of utter confusion and failure to recognize of the name, Glinda sighed.

"That would be the man formerly known as the Wonderful wizard of Oz, or Oz the Great and Powerful." she explained, talking slowly as if to a child. Fiyero blinked back his surprise, well as much as one with button eyes could blink. This news utterly perplexed him, why would the Wizard of Oz ask for his former Press Secretary to be brutally murdered? Glinda seemed to guess his question.

"I can't tell you why, although I do know. That information is something I will carry to my grave." she said stubbornly. Fiyero resisted the urge to pester her, and instead asked a different question.

"Do you know what caused it? Or anything about the assassin?" he interrogated, deciding this would be his final question.

"We don't know much, but whoever it was, they had to have some pretty powerful magic. We know they used a chameleon-like spell to sneak in, and a lightning spell to get the job done. Now, if you'll _excuse_ me Sir Scarecrow, I have much more important business to see to than standing around prattling with an imbecile like yourself, no _offense_. Now, good day." she practically hissed at him. Taking a step forward, he finally stepped aside, to which she smiled at him in a frighteningly fake way, and passed him without another word. And Fiyero _was_frightened. There was an assassin with powerful magic in or near the castle, and Elphaba's warnings would not relent from running full speed through his head repeatedly.

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**Well just for the suckiness of that chapter, I'm going to go ahead and promise an Elphaba centric chapter for the next one. So yeah, yay and stuff. snooping time :D**

**Reviews are most apreciated ^_^**


	10. Chapter Nine: A Discovery

**Oh I'm such a liar. "I'll write more tomorrow and the next day blah blah blah." I don't really have an excuse except that I'm a lazy bum who likes to sleep till four and procrastinates even her college course homework. So yeah, hopefully this chapter is better then the last one. I epically FAIL at Quadlng names, and writing their broken talking crud was agitating, so I made her know Qua'ati. If you haven't figured it out, this book is mostly musical verse, but it has some book verse stuff like her growing up in Quadling Country and Glinda having some actual magic talent, as opposed to the musical, where** **she doesn't.**

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She'd arrived in Quadling Country approximately three days following her argument with Fiyero. She hadn't contacted him since, she was much to upset and hadn't wanted to get in another useless argument that she knew would do know good. She had landed on the outskirts of Qhoyre, hiding out in the swamp trees till nightfall, and then sneaking in to the village to look for evidence of Locasta ever living there. Or at least, that had been her plan.

"Why you to be hiding there, green one?" a Quadling's broken Ozian called from somewhere behind her. She almost shrieked, and spun around faster than a normal person could blink. She found herself starring at a young teenaged male Quadling, his red skin standing out between the trunks of the marsh trees. She froze in place, hoping to whoever would listen that he wouldn't know who she was.

"You to be the "Wicked Witch" they used to speak of. You to be dead though, right?" he said. She wasn't sure what it was she heard in his voice, but it definitely wasn't fear or terror. His eyes were full of what looked like curiosity.

"I… well, that is…. Everyone is… supposed to think I'm dead…." she explained, not really knowing how to respond. The teen nodded, as if she understood her motives perfectly. Then, to her astonishment, he smiled at her.

"The elders of Qhoyre to be speaking of you, saying you not to be evil like Wizard claimed. They say you to have grown up here some time ago." the young man spoke, walking towards her and reaching to take her hand. She almost drew back, until what he'd said registered in her mind. They remembered her from a child. They'd refused to believe she was Wicked like everyone had claimed. Someone had finally believed in her, besides those that knew the truth. She let him take her hand and lead her into Qhoyre, calling to others to introduce her. Many of them seemed to recognize her, but how can one forget a green girl? She even recognized some of them as well. An elderly woman approached her, and spoke to her in Qua'ati. Luckily, Elphaba still remembered most of the language.

"Elphaba? We haven't seen you or any of your family in over eleven years, and suddenly you show up again? We thought all of you were dead!" The woman almost scolded her. Elphaba laughed and hugged the woman.

"It's good to see you too, Rose Thorn." she replied, also in Qua'ati. This woman had been something of a mentor to Elphaba, prompting her to learn Qua'ati when she was little so she could understand the woman, who refused to learn regular Ozian. When Elphaba had been growing up her she would spend a lot of time following the elder woman around when she wasn't playing with the Quadling kids her age. They had always accepted her more than the rest of Oz, regardless of skin. Rose Thorn scowled up at Elphaba, who was now much taller than the hunched red woman, but the scowl did not meet her joking eyes, full of joy and mirth.

"I am so glad you are alive, of course. But you wouldn't be here without a reason, so tell me, what are you after?" the woman asked, taking Elphaba's hand and leading her to a thatched hut and away from the happy crowd so they could talk in private.

"You know me to well. If you must know, I come seeking information on someone." Elphaba said, getting straight to the point. She saw no need for hedging here, and rose Thorn wouldn't tolerate it anyways. She was too impatient.

"Well, if it's about someone, I or any of the other ancient ones here can help with that. We remember just about every name and face that ever passes through." she said, joking at her age. She was never ashamed to be old; Elphaba always remembered she seemed to quite enjoy it.

"That's good, because I have no idea what area the person hailed from. I seek information on a woman named Locasta; she'd be about my age, maybe a little younger, Gillikinese, but claims to be born in Quadling country. Have you ever heard of her?" Elphaba asked. Rose Thorn sat quietly for a moment, pondering. Finally, she snapped up, seeming to have recalled something.

"Yes, I have heard that name. A young woman from Gillikin came through here about eleven or ten years ago with a young man. I believe they said they were on their way to Ovvels? I think they may have come through again at some point in time, but I was visiting family elsewhere. If you want to know more about her you should try Ovvels. But one thing's for sure, she was lying about being born in the Quads, I'm sure they were moving here from Gillikin, not coming back or anything." Rose Thorn drawled.

* * *

Elphaba knew there'd been something fishy about Locasta, and now she had proof that she'd lied about something at least. She decided to stay the night in Qhoyre, and left for Ovvels the next day. On arriving there, she was once again greeted warmly. Apparently none of the Quadlings much cared for the opinion of the "Wonderful Wizard of Oz" or anyone else outside of Quadling Country.

"Are you enjoying you tea Miss, Thropp, was it?" the leader or whatever you wanted to call the man asked her. He was maybe in his mid fifties and went by the name of Glass. Elphaba nodded, smiling.

"Yes, Sir Glass. But please, just Elphaba, I do so hate honorifics." she said. He grinned, a wide toothy grin that contrasted his burgundy skin oddly, but nicely.

"Then you will call me Glass. Now I hear you came looking for information on someone? I have been around for awhile now, and I am sure I can help you." he prodded her to ask what needed to be asked. She obliged.

"Yes, Glass. I come seeking information on a woman by the name of Locasta. Do you know of her?" she inquired.

"Know of her, she used to be one of our most beloved residents. She and her husband were so good and accepting to us. We called her The Good Witch of the South; because of the way she used her magic to better our community. It really is a shame what happened to her. So young…." he said, and then began to space out. Elphaba frowned, confused at his use of past tense.

"I'm sorry, Glass, but I'm a bit confused. What was such a shame?" Elphaba questioned. He shook himself, focusing on her, his face grim.

"She passed away of a deadly disease about six years ago. She died in Gillikin, surrounded by her family, but was buried here in Ovvels. About one year ago we tried to dig her up to bury her husband with her, who died in a tragic accident. But the thing was, her body was missing." he replied grimly. Elphaba was too shocked to say anything.

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**Bwahah. I may or may not do another Elphaba centric chapter next, but the chances are not. she won't be rejoining with the other people for a bit now, so patience and crud. Okay it took me forever to do the math on this and not make it completely impossible for all the year stuff to happen, because Elphaba had to be gone by then, and blah blah I'm uninteresting and rambling so I'll just shut up now. And I think this would make Locasta, if it really is her, about 29? But dead people don't age, keep this in mind.**

**Reviews are infinitely appreciated :D**


	11. Chapter Ten: Concrete Eyes

**Okay here's another chapter, to make up for lying and stuff. Hope you enjoy. I normally had never dreamed of using any OC's, but she's sorta important to the plot now so, I can't really just get rid of her. sorry if you hate OC's. Enjoy ^_^**

**Disclaimer: (This is for last chapter too) I will never own Wicked. D: It's so heartbreaking *cries***"

* * *

Lady Glinda, a suspect has been captured. What should we do with them?" a soldier said, standing at the entrance to Glinda's study. She looked up at him from the Grimmerie, and slowly closed it, marking her place first, before standing and walking towards the guard.

"What suspect?" she questioned him, not entirely understanding what was going on.

"The uh… assassin from last night, milady." the guard said, trying not to sound as if he thought she was an idiot.

"Oh! Oh yes, of course. Well I suppose you should… question them… or something?" she said, not knowing how to proceed with something like this. Suddenly an unmistakable swishing noise announced the arrival of unwanted company.

"If you'd be so kind as to let me question the suspect, milady." the Scarecrow almost ordered. Glinda glared at him, and was about to object, when she realized it wasn't really that bad an idea. This "man", or whatever you would call him, was almost completely invulnerable to death, and this way she wouldn't have to risk any more lives. Finally, she nodded at him.

"Very well, you will interrogate this prisoner. Just don't ask anything stupid." Glinda said, turning and returning to the Grimmerie, not catching the look of surprise from Fiyero, who had honestly not expected her to agree.

* * *

The questioning room was a dull green, like that of dying lichen. In a black chair sat the woman, her hands, feet, and neck chained to the chair face. She almost blended into the chair with her jet black hair and clothing. Fiyero took a seat in a chair across from her. She refused to meet the Scarecrows eyes with her stone ones. Her face was stoic and betrayed no emotion whatsoever.

"What's your name?" he started. Might as well make the air less tense, he thought. Wrong idea.

"I have a lot of names. Black Death, Shadow Assassin, Cruel Sorceress. Those are the most common, but I'm sure there are more." she said. He was startled to realize he'd heard of all of those names before. She was quite the famous assassin, then.

"No, I mean your real name." he pressed, not wanting to let it look like she was going to be allowed to avoid questions. She frowned, ever so slightly, and looked up at him, their eyes finally making contact. Fiyero was chilled to the bone by the stare. It was as if she could see straight through him. And yet, the gaze lacked any emotion, as if her eyes were really made of stone.

"My best friend used to call me Moira. But other than that, I'm not sure." she said stonily. It's like not only were her eyes stone like, but the rest of her seemed to be chiseled in stone too. She didn't even look like she was breathing most of the time. She was a truly frightening person.

"How can you not be sure?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. There was a long silence before she answered.

"I can't remember anything from before I was nine or so, I suppose. People tell me I came from some land beyond Oz, I guess. I don't know my own past, the people who used to know me did. And they're all dead now, even my best friend." she said, showing not even the least bit of remorse at this news. Fiyero couldn't gulp down the question before it slipped out.

"Why are they all dead? What happened?" he inquired. He was afraid he already knew the answer.

"I killed them all. Struck them all down with my magic." she stated. For a moment he thought he saw something flash through her eyes. Was that sorrow? No, he must have imagined it, the next second she looked just as rocky as before.

"Why would you do that? Why are you an assassin, Moira?" he pressed. This finally got something other than the stony stare from her. But he wished it hadn't, as she was now glaring at him with the scariest murderous look he had ever seen. If looks could kill.

"I would request you _refrain_ from calling me Moira," she began, and after he nodded she receded back to her normal stare and continued, "And it's because someone told me too." she ended. Fiyero was beginning to question his sanity at the idea of questioning her. Sure, he had experience as the former Captain of the Guard and all, but this woman was more terrifying then anyone he'd ever met. And that was saying something. But he pushed his fear aside, making room for disgust, allowing it to fuel his questions now.

"What kind of excuse is that? You'd kill people who probably love you because you were requested to? How much did they pay? You thought money could pay off the crime of murdering numerous people, and still can? You're twisted." he spat at her. Her stony mask seemed to drop all too suddenly, and she snarled at him.

"You think I don't know how twisted this is? You think I want it? I don't have a choice here! If someone tells me I'm to kill someone, I do it. I can't control it!" she spat right back. Fiyero almost fell out of his chair at the intensity of her glare, but managed to regain himself.

"Oh, is that what you tell yourself to get to sleep at night? You will _always_ have a choice, it's called free will!" he retorted nastily. "Moira's" lips seemed to curl up as if she were a growling animal, her rage completely evident, but there was something more in her eyes. A sort of heartbreaking sorrow.

"No, no I don't have a choice! I'm cursed, okay? Cursed to accept any order to murder someone. It doesn't matter if I know them, or care about them, I _have_ to do it! I've never had that freedom!" she practically screamed at him. He sat, stunned into silence for several minutes. The woman assassin sat there, on the verge of tears. She bit down heavily on her lip, wishing she hadn't lost her temper. He saw a trickle of blood run down her chin.

"Did you receive orders to kill Lady Glinda?" he finally asked. She looked up at him, her eyes a flurry of emotions now, but confusion dominated.

"What would make you think that? I was ordered by that Diggs guy, the Wizard of Oz or whatever, to kill that Morrible witch lady. That's _all_, I swear." she insisted. And Fiyero believed her.

* * *

Outside the door where two guards were supposed to be standing, they lay instead, unconscious on the cold emerald floors. Standing where one of them should have been, peering in the small one way window, a shadowed figure stood, smirking at the brilliant idea she had just discovered was possible. She turned and walked back down the long hall, planning to come back later. Her crimson shoes made no noise in the eerily lit hall.

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**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN. Next chapter will be Elphie centered again. My characterization seems to be getting weaker, I need to work on that D: and I am well aware I fail at original names. Yeah...**

**Reviews would be nice**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Frottica

**Blurg, more updating. It's like I only get inspiration on days I've actually done something other then veg... Well whatever, enjoy. Elphie centric.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked, nor do I own the first names of Fyter or Chopfyt, their names are property of L. Frank Baum.**

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She was extremely uncomfortable in this clothing. She was wrapped in a thick cloak, concealing all of her skin except her hand, which had on leather gloves. She wore a shawl over her face, except her eyes, so no one could see it. It was a bit much, especially in the summer and all, but it was necessary if she was going to be wandering down the streets of Frottica and not get screamed at, or even killed. Elphaba thought back to the night before, where she had attempted to contact Fiyero in his room, only to find it empty. She was sure he would have been there, considering it was the middle of the night. It worried her that he wasn't, so she wanted to get this last bit of information gathered before she went to the Emerald Palace itself to confront this "Locasta" imposter. There was no way it could be the same girl, after all, the real Locasta was dead, even if the body was missing. It was all just a coincidence. Or, that was what Elphaba was trying to convince herself. She arrived at the address that she'd received from the town directory. She ascended the many stairs to what looked slightly smaller than a mansion, but much too big to be a house, and knocked loudly on the door. Eventually, a balding man in a red tuxedo answered the door.

"Reavos residence, how may I be of service?" the man, who was clearly the butler, asked her briskly. She attempted a glimpse behind the man, but he blocked it with his broad frame.

"I wished to request a brief audience with the man and woman of the house, if you would be so kind." she stated, trying to sound as nice as possible. The butler looked at her testily, as if seeing her for the first time, and grunted disapprovingly.

"I'm not at all sure they will be approving of that… miss. However, I shall deliver the request. Please wait outside." he replied, and shut the door in her face, rather rudely. He returned several minutes later with a rather tall, blondetteman with ice blue eyes. He looked to be around fifty or so years of age, but aging well. He stepped past the butler to the outside, closing the door behind him, and held his hand out to Elphaba.

"Master Fyter Reavos, at your service ma'am. I heard you had requested an audience with me and my wife. I'm afraid she is unable to come out at the moment, but I do hope I will do. Now, what is all this about?" the man asked. Elphaba was almost overwhelmed at how rich this family appeared to be. It was almost suffocating. She almost understood why the real Locasta had chosen to move to Quadling Country.

"Yes, sir. You see, I'm hear inquiring about you late daughter, Locasta?" she started, hoping he would pick up and begin talking. But he did the opposite. As soon as the name was mentioned, his form stiffened considerably.

"That's not something complete strangers normally have the gall to talk about, if you see my meaning." he warned discretely. Elphaba, being Elphaba, refused to relent.

"Please Master Fyter, I have evidence of where her body may have ended up, and I was wondering if a description of her would be possible, to identify it." she lied easily. The man looked at her skeptically for a moment, and then huffed.

"Preposterous, her body is right where it was buried, in that filthy Quadling waste land marsh. The corpse is probably rotted to a skeleton by now, but it's definitely there." the man claimed. Elphaba could tell he was bluffing, though.

"You and I both know that isn't' true. If you'd be so _kind_ as to give me the information I need. _Please_." she stressed the last word, not begging, but rather almost forcing it upon the man. He glowered down at her. She realized she'd made a mistake.

"In case you have forgotten, _ma'am, _this land happens to belong to _me_. I don't believe I wish you to be on or near it anymore. If you do not remove yourself immediately, then I shall have someone do it for you." he threatened her, then turned and stalked back through the door, slamming it behind him.

* * *

Elphaba sighed as she made her way back down the almost deserted streets of Frottica, heading down a path to the forest where she had entered the city. She planned on disposing of the cover-up outerwear immediately and heading for Emerald Palace, if only to check in on Fiyero, she was beginning to worry about him more and more. Suddenly, she felt a strong hand grip her shoulder, and before she knew it she was pulled into a nearby alley. Before she had the time to scream, another hand covered her mouth. She attempted to bite it, but it did not budge, and she found it tasted revolting, and let go immediately.

"Shh now missy, I'm just here to help ye." a male voice sounded behind her. She attempted to struggle.

"Now, now, yer just not listening are ye? I've got thad information yer be wanting on Locasta. Now if yer'd stop yer struggling, I migh' be inclined to tell it to yers." the voice sounded again. It sounded as if the speech was slurred with lack of use or some sort of speech impediment. Either way, it was a bit more difficult to understand than proper speech, but not impossible. Elphaba stopped struggling, and the hands released her. She spun around to see her would be captor. It was a man in his late twenties or early thirties. At one point in time he may have been handsome, but now his hair was missing several patches, and his teeth were discolored and gone in several areas. His eyes were bloodshot, and his clothing looked as if they'd been worn for years. Elphaba moved back a bit, and the man grinned, a yellow, disgusting grin.

"Aye, get that repsponze alo' tese daiz. Ever since Locasta died and all, I sorta jus' stopped carin, yer know?" the man asked her. As revolting as he seemed to be, he did seem friendly, and the bitter tone in his voice made Elphaba want to comfort him. But she'd never been good at comforting people.

"I can't say I do sir." she said instead. The man looked at her disapprovingly.

"Now, now. None er that 'sir' crap. I'm certinle no sir no mow." he said. Elphaba nodded, in apology.

"Please, who are you, if I may ask?" she inquired. He frowned.

"I'm Chopfyt Pilsko, mind yer. Not exactleh important or all, buh I did kno dat Locasta you wer askin bout. The guy who marrehd hur, 'e waz a lucky bastard, 'e waz. She mighd nod hab known meh, but I sure did knowz hur." the man explained. Elphaba understood now, he was a victim of unrequited love who'd loved her from a distance and lost it when she died. Then she could definitely get a description out of him. Given his missing teeth were causing him to sound like a drunkard, but it was better than nothing at all.

"So, could you describe her for me? The last time you saw her?" Elphaba prodded. The man straightened up and looked dead serious now.

"As what I'm ere for anyway, I heard you askin bout her, sayin you migh kno whar hur body be r something. So I wanna give you deh discripdun of the way shey lookd whan shey diud. Shey waz abowt fife food fife. Shey had lowng straig her whiz waz a shorda broonet, blownd colur. Hur eyez were lih glaceres, bud wit all de warmness in da wurl in dem." he listed, and seemed to be finished. Elphaba waited for a moment, but he didn't continue.

"That's not much to go on Chopfyt, was there anything else, anything that really stood out?" she asked. He seemed to shake himself, snapping his fingers and grinning.

"Ow, curse! Howz I forgud? When she diud, she waz wearing these real prutty shoz. They wur like, rubies in the sun or sometin. Real expensuv lookin." he explained. Then he saw Elphaba's. There came an explosion from the street they'd come off of, and if they'd been looking they would have noticed all the lampposts shattering at relatively the same time in green bursts.

"Ar… ar you alriy there? You look a bi… agitate there." he said, slowly stepping forward and extending a hand towards her shoulder. Elphaba slapped it away, turned, and stormed off into the woods, taking off on her broom as soon as she was sure she was far enough away to not be seen by anyone in the city.

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**Wooh for Elphie outburst :D xD. If she feels out of character, please feel free to elaborate. And yes, this means she'll be joining the little group of oh so close friends at the Emerald Palace soon. Probably not in the next chapter, or the one after. But we'll see, maybe 3 or 4. Whatever my brain dictates, I won't know till it tells me. Oh, and if anyone would like me to translate what Chopfyt is saying, just ask and I'll post it somewhere.**

**Reviews make my day/night/whatever you wanna call it.**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Found Out

**This chapter sucks, in my opinion. I hate it, thoroughly. Hopefully it'll get better from here, but maybe I just suck at this. Anyways, enjoy as much as you can. D:**

**Disclaimer thingy: Wicked, that wonderful musical, and the book it is based off of, is not mine... yeah... Sad, isn't it?**

* * *

"She's what now?" Glinda asked, already tired of his presence. The Scarecrow had pulled her away from a lovely lunch she'd been having with Locasta, and she wanted to get out of this conversation as soon as she could, she didn't want to keep Locasta waiting.

"Cursed! You know, magic mumbo-jumbo, spells and random words, add a little evil, and poof, a curse. Or however that stuff goes." the Scarecrow said, animating his words wildly with flailing limbs. Glinda looked at him skeptically.

"You mean to tell me she's cursed to kill whoever she's told? That seems a little farfetched, don't you think Sir Scarecrow?" she questioned. He shook his head, bits of straw flying out from a small open seem on the side of his head.

"And so does an animated talking scarecrow and a hollow man made of tin, but me and the Tin Man exist, so why shouldn't this? It's a perfectly logical explanation!" he bellowed. Glinda was perplexed as to why he was so excited about this news.

"Okay, say she really is cursed. So what, why are you telling _me_ this?" she inquired, almost dreading the response. She was right to dread it.

"Isn't it obvious? You need to find the counter curse, of course! you can't just let her sit there, unable to live with herself because what she's forced to do!" he almost ordered her, but drew himself back and made it sound more like an exasperated request. Glinda stared at him like he'd grown five heads and a purple horn.

"Why would I want to help a professional assassin?" she yelled, already convinced he'd lost it.

"Because it's not her fault, damn it! Don't you see, nobody should have to go through what she's going through! You have to help her, you just have to. And plus, you can't just let her stay there and rot when there's a way to fix it." he explained. Glinda realized there was some truth in what she said. It would be considerably cruel to let this continue, not only could it harm the woman's sanity, but if somehow she obtained orders to kill someone else, more innocent people would die. Glinda paused, feeling like she herself was doing something crazy, but she saw that it would be the best course.

"Alright, fine. I'll look into it. Luckily, curses are a bit different than spells, so they can be reversed. But it's not going to be easy. And I am _not_ doing this for you; I'm doing it for that woman, and those innocent people who might become her next victim." she stated. The Scarecrow grinned, and grasped her hand, a gesture she did not appreciate in the slightest.

"Oh thank Oz you'll do it, you're the only one I know with any magical power at all. Thank you so much." he said, shaking her hand vigorously. Glinda slowly pried her hand away from his gloved grasp, and turned to return to lunch with Locasta. Suddenly, something occurred to her, and she turned back.

"Why do you care so much about this, Scarecrow? You don't even know the girl." Glinda asked, curiosity peaked. The Scarecrow stopped smiling suddenly, and appeared almost as if he'd gone deep into thought. To be honest, he didn't really know himself.

"Huh, I don't really know myself… I suppose, I just can't stand it when someone is forced to become something they're not, you know?" he said, not realizing he was actually referring to Elphaba subconsciously. Glinda immediately thought of Elphaba, upon hearing these words, and frowned.

"Yes, I suppose that fate is… rather horrible." she said in return. She started to turn once again, before saying one more thing.

"You're one brainless man you know, thinking to ask someone who plainly can't stand you to do you a favor. You're lucky I'm a good hearted person." she breathed over her shoulder, trying to drop the hint to him in a more obvious way that he should leave her alone. The Scarecrow shrugged, and said the first thing that came to mind, before realizing what he was doing.

"Well, life's more painless for the brainless." Glinda stopped short, her breath caught in her throat. She slowly turned on her heal to face the Scarecrow, who had one gloved hand clapped over his stitched mouth.

"You… you! You're… alive? But she said… and you… Is _anyone_dead?" Glinda screeched, and it was obvious to Fiyero he'd been discovered. Acting quickly, he rushed towards Glinda, slapped one gloved hand on her mouth, and ushered her into his nearby room, locking the door behind them. As soon as they were inside she threw of his hand and pressed a very accusing index finger into his soft, straw-stuffed chest.

"Fiyero? You're supposed to be dead! And furthermore, you're one of the people who tried to kill Elphaba! I mean, she's alive and all, I know that, but you still were a part of the witch hunters!" she shouted.

"Shhh! would you like to advertise it to the world Glinda? Yes, I'm alive, Yeah, I joined the witch hunters, Yes, Elphaba's alive, though how you know that I can't fathom. Do you honestly think though, that she could have pulled off the whole melting scene effectively if she hadn't had outside help?" he said in a rush, whispering. Glinda glared at him, and did not remove her finger.

"Yes, I did actually. It still doesn't explain why you joined forces with that stupid kid and her annoying little dog though!" she whisper-yelled at his face. Fiyero sighed heavily.

"Look, it was part of the plan. Originally, I just needed to get to Kiamo Ko, and walking around as a straw man by myself didn't seem to bright, people would freak. So when Dorothy happened a long and said she was going to the Wizard, I made up the brains thing, since I've apparently always been lacking them. Then, when I found out we were to be sent to Kiamo Ko to kill Elphaba, I knew the only way for her to escape all this chaos and mess her life had become, we'd have to fake her death, and then we'd escape together outside of Oz. Which mostly worked, except the escape part." he explained, Glinda listening intently the entire time.

"Okay, I admit the faking her death was a stroke of genius. But you couldn't have told me? I'm her best friend, after all! I was heartbroken, thinking it was all my fault. Then I find, oh, she's alive, and I'm even more heartbroken that she wouldn't trust me enough not to spill that she was still alive." Glinda chastised him. Fiyero sighed.

"I admit, not telling you was my idea. It killed her to know that you would think she was dead, but she agreed with me in the end." he said. Glinda glared at him.

"And why was that?" she asked. Fiyero shook his head, not really knowing the answer.

"I suppose, I just didn't think we should have took the chance. I know you'd have guarded that secret with your life, but something told me not to tell you. I see now I was wrong, and I regret making you feel so… horrible." he said, looking up at her. She knew if his eyes could express emotion they would be full of sorrow. Finally something occurred to her.

"So, if you guys tried to escape together, then why are you back now? And why are you here? And more importantly, where is Elphie?" she asked. By now, all thoughts of Locasta were out her mind, much to a certain eavesdroppers' chagrin. Fiyero smiled a bit, noticing that Glinda had easily fallen back into Elphaba's old nickname.

"We're back because we couldn't get through the dessert, it seems like we're not meant to leave Oz. And now that you mention it… I'm not sure where Fae is. Last I heard from her, she was heading to Quadling country." he answered.

"Quadling Country? Why ever would she desire to go there?" Glinda asked. She had nothing against Quadlings, she just preferred not visiting the marshy lands, the humidity did horrible things to her hair, and the mud was just so… muddy.

"Oh… she was going to ask around for information. She overheard me having a conversation, and she didn't seem to trust L-" Fiyero began, but was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in." He said as Glinda opened the door with a small unlocking spell, and a feeling of happiness and warmth immediately entered the room as the figure made to enter.

"Ah, Locasta, how are you?" Fiyero inquired, not seeming to worry at all whether they had been overheard or not.

"Very good, sir Scarecrow. I came by looking for Lady Glinda. You sort of stole her away from our lunch, you see, and you were taking so long I began to worry. I'm sorry for interrupting." she said sweetly.

"Oh, it's not a problem, me and Sir Scarecrow were just finishing. I apologize for taking so much time and keeping you waiting. I'll be right there, you go on ahead." Glinda said, smiling. Locasta nodded and exited the room, leaving the door open behind her. Glinda turned back to Fiyero.

"We'll continue this conversation later, you still have a lot of explain to do mister." she said accusingly, but Fiyero detected a small hint of teasing under the threatening words. She exited the room and Fiyero was left to himself, suddenly missing Elphaba very much.

* * *

**Next chapter I hope will be better. Uh, Elphaba comes in chapter after. And there'll be another discovery scene later on, but yeah. I honestlly hadn't meant for Fiyeor to be discovered this early on, but my mind does whatever the hell it wants, and screw anything that protests. So yeah, so much for keeping an agenda and plot line xD**

**You know, I've always wondered how Elphaba didn't die in Quadling Country growing up there. I mean being marsh lands, there's got to be a whole lo of water and mud, which is dirt and water. That's got to take a shit load of effort just to stay alive. Plus it probably rained a bunch too.**

**A note: My next endeavor into the world of fanfiction will be a Kingdom Hearts fic. If your interested, than great, if not then pay no attention to this note. It's going to be Larxene centric. Still interested people still reading? Surprise, surprise, I thought everyone hated her. But yeah, I'm not sure if I'm going to start it while still writing this one, or just start it after I finish this. It was an idea in my head long before I came up with this one, but I wanted my first fanfiction to be a wicked one so I put it on hold. I'm also milling around a Luna centric Harry Potter fanfic in my mind.**

**Reviews are loved and treasured :D**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Orders

**I'm going to apologize for sounding so damn depressed last chapter. I mean, I was, I always am around Father's Day, but that doesn't mean I should've actually written like I was depressed. Also apologizing for taking so long to update before Father's Day, but I was busy with Work and online classes, so yeah, sorry. And I have to admit I was watching Hunchback of Notre Dame, Pocahantas, Into temptation, Chicago and Legally Blonde the Musical on youtube, but in my defense, all of those are slightly related to Wicked in a way. Points if you know the connection. Anyways, I'm slightly more happy with this chapter, I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I may be overlly obsessed with Wicked, but it's never going to be mine.**

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Moira was losing control. It seemed like every emotion she'd ever put aside and locked away in the deepest recess of herself, was struggling to get to the surface. She'd put on this mask of emotionless stone to keep herself becoming too attached. People avoided her as a rule; they always avoided the stoic ones. Also, it kept her sane. She emotionally detached her soul when carrying out orders, that way it was a shell of the real her doing the murdering, not her. But now she'd broken down once, and her emotions were threatening to completely break lose. And she hated it. What was it about that damned straw man that had done it? For years she'd been caught repeatedly, imprisoned, and what not. She never tried especially hard to escape; it was a subconscious hope that maybe if she was caught and imprisoned for life, she wouldn't have to kill anymore. But every time someone figured it out and someone would give her more orders. And so, no matter how impossible, she would escape, and was forced to carry them out. If she was in this state when she had to kill again, she knew there'd be nothing stopping her from turning on herself to end her misery. She had to gain control, she just _had_ to. A noise outside the questioning room drew her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see a young Gillikin woman looking at her with a bright smile. Moira was overwhelmed by the sense of comfort this girl had about her. The lady walked towards her, and sat in the chair across from her.

"Hello, Moira, was it? My name's Locasta, nice to meet you." Locasta said sweetly. Moira's mind began to become muddled with the air this girl carried, but she struggled against the warmth, she knew what was going on here.

"I doubt I could say likewise. And how do you know my name?" she retorted, her eyes glaring at the woman. She didn't trust her, especially when the girl was doing what she was doing.

"I overheard your little conversation with the Scarecrow, and I must say your little… predicament intrigued me." Locasta replied. Moira eyed her suspiciously, and twisted her bonds a little nervously, not liking to be so restrained and vulnerable around this woman. The sickeningly sweet aura was still fighting against her better judgment, but she held firm against it.

"So what do you want from me then, get to the point." Moira snapped. Locasta's smile faltered a bit and her eyebrows crinkled as if she was confused.

"Right, no getting around you, you're terribly blunt. If you must know, I have a request to make of you." Locasta said, her sweet voice dropping to a colder one now. She seemed to realize the act wasn't going to work on Moira.

"You're ordering me to kill someone? You almost don't seem the type." Moira responded bluntly. Her heart sunk, she wouldn't have the time to reign in her emotions now, and she was sure now she'd be dead by that time tomorrow.

"Now, now, we all know looks can be deceiving. Besides your eyes you hardly seem the killing type, but just look at you. But let's not go into that. Here's what I want. Truthfully, I would like to avoid this happening, so I'm not making this an order to be carried out immediately." Locasta began to explain. Moira laughed, a blood chilling humorless laugh that made even Locasta's now smug grin drop completely.

"You want to avoid having someone killed, oh how very kind of you. Whatever, I don't care, just get to the actual order, and make it fast, I'm almost sick of talking to you. Your stupid charm is getting really annoying." she said, her eyes boring into Locasta. Locasta seemed to squirm upon realizing Moira knew what she was up to with that aura of hers.

"Fine. I wish for you to find and kill Lady Galinda Upland, Ruler of Oz. But not right away, I'll return to you in about a fortnight. If I haven't handled her myself by then, than I'll leave the rest to you. Understand?" Locasta said. Moira sat stunned. The ruler of Oz? She had to kill Glinda, of all people? She hadn't known anyone in her long travels who'd ever spoken ill of Glinda. If people didn't love her, they at least respected her, and that was extremely rare in a ruler.

"What? Why would you want her dead, everyone loves her!" Moira said, her hurriedly constructed mask starting to crumble again. She fought to keep the conflicting emotions under control. It was Locasta's turn to laugh now, and her's was much more frightening then Moira's had been.

"Maybe the rest of Oz is deluded by her, 'I'm just so good!' routine, but I know the real her. I know how she can betray people without even trying. And she deserves to die! She… She…." but Locasta trailed off, apparently trying to fight back her own emotions. Moira stared at the woman in front of her, and for an instant she thought she saw the ice blue eyes flash a rich brown, but she never could tell because as soon as it was there it was gone again. Locasta inhaled a rough breath and stood.

"We have nothing more to talk of. Your orders stand, you will kill Glinda Upland in a fortnight unless I tell you otherwise. Good day, Moira." Locasta said coldly. As she turned to walk out the aura that had seemed to have gone cold began to reconstruct itself around Locasta, and the warmth again threatened to take over Moira, but then Locasta was out the door, stepping over an unconscious guard, and gone. Moira watched the door close, and sat shuddering, as the painful tendrils of the curse began to clutch at her heart, muscles, and brain. Burning white hot stabs rocked through her as she tried to resist, but little by little the tattooed mark on her back began to glow a horrible white until the entire thing was shining through the back of her black shirt. She blacked out just before the last tendril turned white.

* * *

**I'm actually planning to draw out that tattoo sometime, so if you want to see it I'll post a link to a picture on my profile when I finish it. And when I finish it I'll tell you so. Anyways, dun dun dun, and stuff. If you don't know who Locasta is by now, I'm doing a lot btetter then I thought at conceling it while still dropping hints. But it should be fairly obvious by now. Anyways, thanks for reading this if you are :D**

**Reviews make my day.**


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